


Food Photography

by Wonderlandleighleigh



Series: Photos old and new [12]
Category: Batman (Comics), Constantine: The Hellblazer (Comics), Supernatural
Genre: AU, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:41:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25575235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wonderlandleighleigh/pseuds/Wonderlandleighleigh
Summary: 5 people who wandered into Ramona’s door from the past, and one who wandered in from the present.
Relationships: Tim Drake/Original Female Character(s), Tim Drake/Ramona Winchester
Series: Photos old and new [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/538912
Comments: 3
Kudos: 28





	Food Photography

1.

It isn’t until she opens up a little cafe in Old Gotham, right around the corner from Wayne Tower, that people from her old life start showing up. 

And it’s weird, but...sure. Okay.

Castiel is her first customer. He sits at the counter with its new shine and placemats and looks around at the big windows, and the tables and the big chalkboard that lists her small, but delicious menu. 

“I will have a piece of strawberry rhubarb pie,” he tells her. “Please.” 

Ramona smiles fondly. “That will be ten thousand dollars, please.” 

His smile fades, and his eyes widen, and Ramona leans over, shoving at his trench-coated shoulder gently. 

“It’s a joke, Cass,” she tells him. “One slice of pie, coming up.” 

He relaxes a little and looks around again. “It is very nice here.” 

“Thanks.” She pulls a pie from the bakery case, and cuts him a slice, settling it on a plate and handing it over with a fork. “Coffee?” 

“Please?” 

Ramona nods and gets to work, pouring him a cup. 

“I am very proud of you, Ramona,” Castiel tells her. “And I know your father and uncle would be as well.” 

She nods. She’s not good at talking about them. Even a couple of years after they’ve passed. She hands him the cup of coffee with a shaky smile. 

2.

Jody Mills is a surprise. She plunks down at the lunch counter and beams, waiting until Ramona turns around. 

“Surprise.” 

Ramona yelps and hugs her tightly, flinging her small frame across the counter and her arms around the older woman.

“What are you doing here?!” 

“Cass told me,” Jody says. “You think I’d miss out eating your food at your restaurant?” She pats Ramona’s back and then pulls away. “This place is great, honey. Seriously.” 

Ramona smiles widely and pours her a cup of coffee.

“So? How’s that boy of yours doing?” 

“Tim is good,” Ramona nods, as she rings out another customer. “How are Claire and Alex?” 

“Well, Alex just started med school,” Jody says, sipping her coffee. “And Claire is...well…” 

“Still hunting?” Ramona asks softly. 

Jody nods. “She still humors me sometimes...checks in, lets me help her, but...well...you remember Claire. She always wanted to be on her own.” 

“She’s stubborn, but I know she loves you and Alex and Donna.” 

“Oh, I know,” Jody grins. “She cares about you, too, you know.” 

Ramona scoffs. “Claire Novak was never my biggest fan.”

“Your Daddy adored you, and he cared about Claire a lot,” Jody reminds her. “He never could figure out why the two of you didn’t get along.” 

Ramona huffs. “Because I never wanted to hunt, and she was dead-set on it. Because she spent years staring at her father’s face when it was really Castiel inside, and my dad got to live, at least a little while longer…” 

Jody gazes at her, and reaches out to pat her hand. “I think we’re gonna need more coffee.” 

3\. 

“Here now, this is a nice little spot, innit?” 

Ramona frowns deeply as she brings out two plates to serve a couple in the corner. 

A man wanders up to the counter, looking around interestedly. Hands in the pockets of his rumpled suit, pushing his tan trench coat back a little.

He smiles at Ramona, crows feet crinkling at the corners of his eyes, laugh lines around his mouth more pronounced. “Hullo, Ramona, love. Long time no see.” 

She sets the plates down and eyes the man warily. “That’s an understatement. I was ten the last time I saw you.” 

“And now look at you,” the man says, nodding, making a lock of unruly blond hair bounce slightly. “Dean Winchester’s little pride and joy all grown up.” 

“What do you want, Mr. Constantine?” 

“No need for formalities, Ramona,” he says, having a seat, fiddling with a crumpled pack of cigarettes. “John’s fine, now that we’re both adults.” 

She nods slowly, watching him. “Something tells me you didn’t just stop by for a cup of coffee and a chat.”

“Can’t a man just pop in on the daughter of an old mate?” 

Ramona wrinkles her nose. “Didn’t Daddy shoot you once?” 

“In his defense, I was very possessed at the time,” Constantine shrugs. He sighs heavily. “Right. Okay. You’ve obviously got my number. I need your help.” 

“I don’t do that anymore,” she says. 

“Ramona…” 

“I never really did it to begin with,” she points out as she refills the coffeemaker. “I held the flashlight and I poured the salt.” 

“You’re an angel vessel, though,” he points out. “A living vessel of the Archangel Michael.” 

She glowers at him. 

“And I need your help.” 

There’s a long moment of silence as they stare at each other.

“You gonna get me killed, Mister Constantine?” Ramona asks quietly. “Use me to fix one of your screwed up little problems, and it’ll only cost me my life?” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it, love,” John grins. “Castiel would bust your old dad out of heaven, and he’d rip me guts out. Nobody needs the bother my death would cause. ‘Sides, I’ve always liked you, Ramona. You’re one of the good ones. Nah, this’ll be a milk run compared to all that end of the world bollocks you Winchesters are used to.” 

She takes a deep breath. “I am so gonna regret this.” 

John Constantine’s grin only gets wider. “Only a bit. Now, about that coffee.” 

4\. 

“You know, I heard Winchesters weren’t the smartest bunch, but trusting John Constantine?” 

Ramona rolls her eyes, and it hurts a little, because her left eye is sporting a deep, purple bruise around it. 

“Hey, I’m not dead, I didn’t trust him that much,” she tells the raven-haired woman who takes a seat at the counter. “Welcome to Blondie’s Ms. Zatarra.” 

Zatanna Zatarra smirks and shakes her head. “He used you to play a trick on Lucifer while he’s still in his cage. You don’t find that reckless? A little dangerous maybe?” 

Ramona takes a deep breath. “I...think that any chance I get to stick it to the self-righteous prick who caused my family a considerable amount of stress and fear over the years is kinda worth it.” 

Zatanna sighs softly. “Do you have tea? I could do with a cup of tea.” 

Ramona gives a half-hearted salute. “Coming up.” 

5\. 

The bell on the cafe door dings near closing, and Ramona doesn’t look up. “We’re closing soon, but I’ve got a few things left in the pastry case…” 

“And to think,” a familiar, Scottish-accented voice tuts. “After all I did for you Winchesters, all I’m offered is a slice of pie.” 

Ramona whirls around and blinks. “Rowena.” 

Rowena McLeod tilts her head as she swishes into the restaurant. “It’s a nice little place, I’ll admit. A bit...small. A bit...casual. But it’s nice. It certainly smells better than the bunker ever did.” 

“To be fair, we still don’t know how old the bunker is, or what may have been living in it before we moved in,” Ramona points out with a smirk. 

“I’ll tell you what was living in it,” Rowena jokes. “Two grown men who rarely did their laundry. To say nothing of your uncle’s cooking. Pe-ew!” she waves a hand in front of her nose daintily. 

Ramona huffs out a soft laugh. “So? Pie? Coffee?” 

“Who am I to turn down pie from Dean Winchester’s pride and joy?” Rowena grins as she settles at the counter. 

Ramona pulls out the last of the blueberry pie, slicing a piece for her, and settling it on a plate with precision before pouring hot coffee into a fresh cup. “So? What do you want?” 

“Oh, that’s nice,” Rowena snaps. “Can’t I just pay a visit to an old friend?” 

Ramona grins, amused as she sets the pie and coffee down in front of the redheaded woman. “If it were anyone but you, Rowena…” 

The redhead sighs heavily and sips her coffee. “Oh. That’s lovely.” 

“Right? Local beans,” Ramona tells her. “So?” 

“Your fiance...” 

“I’m not getting you money.” 

“Who needs money when I have magic?” Rowena asks, quirking an eyebrow. “No, no, he’s got access to something much more valuable than Bruce Wayne’s money.” 

Ramona freezes. 

“He and the rest of the bats,” Rowena pushes. “They all know where to find a lazarus pit.” 

The younger woman shakes her head and pours her own cup of coffee, watching the steam rise. “Why do you need a Lazarus pit? Like you said, you have magic.” 

“It’s not for me, Ramona,” Rowena tells her. “It’s for you.” 

They lock eyes, and the younger woman shakes her head, a wry smirk playing over her lips. 

“No. Not ever.” 

“But-” 

“No,” Ramona repeats, her voice louder; harsher. “What’s dead should stay dead. And it’s not like you’ve ever done much out of the goodness of your heart. What do you want with my father and uncle? That no one else can help with?” 

Rowena narrows her eyes. “You are far too smart for your own good, Ramona Winchester.” 

Ramona smiles kindly and lifts up the coffee pot. “More coffee?” 

_And one who wandered in from the present_

“Nobody said that, Lucius. Nobody told the board that their ideas were crap.” Tim Drake pauses as he stands in the doorway of Blondie’s with his phone to his ear. “Okay, maybe I wrote it in an email to Damian and Jay, but they weren’t supposed to see-” he stops and huffs. “I did not hit ‘reply all’...did I?” 

Ramona watches him from behind the counter, grinning to herself more than she’s grinning at him. He looks so cute, befuddled with his hair a little tousled from the wind outside. Blue eyes narrowed in confusion, and lips shaped into a frowning pout. 

She smiles at the customer at the counter - an elderly man, enjoying a cup of tea and a hot sandwich - and shrugs a shoulder, earning her an amused smile.

“We’ll talk more later,” Tim says into his phone as he spots Ramona, waving at her awkwardly with a sheepish grin. When he hangs up, he huffs out a soft breath and steps over to the counter. “Tell me there is coffee.” 

“No,” Ramona tells him automatically. “You drank all the coffee on earth and now there’s no more coffee.” 

“Okay, that’s just cruel,” Tim accuses her playfully. 

“How was your week?” Ramona asks as she pours him a cup and sets it down with the sugar. 

He doctors his coffee and then takes a sip, his shoulders relaxing ever so slightly. “Busy. I got in from Tokyo at six this morning and hit the ground running. What about you? I’m so sorry I’ve missed opening week of this place. How has it been going?” 

She waves a hand. “It’s fine. And it’s been good. Had a few old friends stop by...a few...not-so-friendly old friends as well. So. Eventful.” 

Tim frowns, lifting an eyebrow. “Not-so-friendly?” 

“Everything’s fine.” 

“Ramona-” 

“Drink your coffee, Hero.” 

He reaches out, taking her hand and looking into her eyes. “You’d tell me if someone really bad happened. Right?” 

She gazes into his eyes: blue and honest and concerned, and nods slowly. “I would.” 

He nods back, stroking his thumb over her knuckles. “Either way, I wanna know about the bruise around your eye.” 

“Later,” Ramona promises, giving him a smile. “You hungry?” 

“Starved.” 

“Too bad, all out of food,” she jokes. 

“This is what I’m marrying,” Tim huffs, shaking his head. 

“We should all be so lucky,” the elderly man a few seats down says. “If I were fifty years younger, you’d have competition.” 

Tim stares at him with wide, surprised eyes before turning back to Ramona, opening his mouth though no sound comes out.

She just giggles and hands him a menu. “Specials are on the board.”


End file.
